Fiery Heat Ch. 11

Tristan tried without success to pry Chloe's arms from around his neck and break off the kiss to Damon's amusement. Briana's eyes were big as saucers, her jaw had fallen open as she stared at Tristan and the girl. Cole raised a brow, but other than that didn't utter a word.

"I've missed you so much Honey." Chloe moaned, grinding her arse on Tristan.

Tristan took advantage of his freed lips and quickly drew back his head, standing up to get a clingy Chloe to slide off his lap.

"Chloe, will you listen to me?" Tristan tried to talk to the horny drunk beauty but she didn't look like she could hear a thing he was saying. She was clearly unaware of the turmoil going on inside Tristan.

"Dance with me Tristan." She started pulling him to follow her.

"Hey stop. I don't wanna dance." Tristan held back.

"Please." Chloe whined, still trying to draw Tristan onto the dance floor.

"You know she's not going to take a no for an answer don't you?" Damon asked Tristan. "Just go dance with her."

"Non, Non, Non Damon. Vous faites une grosse erreur." Andre said shaking his head.

Tristan turned to look at Damon, trying to read from his eyes whether he was really okay with the situation even as Andre kept repeating that it was a mistake in French.

"Go on." Damon urged.

Tristan allowed himself to be pulled unto the dance floor where a slow number was playing. Chloe's hands went around Tristan's neck and her head rested on his chest as they moved slowly to the music.

"Oww, young love." Raoul sighed, and then turned to walk away.

Briana excused herself to go use the bathroom and Andre went off with his companion to check up on something, but not before telling Damon exactly what he thought about him being okay with his man dancing with a girl who obviously had the hots for him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Cole asked Damon quietly. He hadn't missed the way Damon had stiffened at that idiot Raphael or whatever he was called's comment.

"Yeah." He said pouring a drink for himself.

After a while, Tristan came back to the table. He had finally succeeded in persuading Chloe to go home as she was drunk and needed to sleep it off. He had to take her to Raoul's car and promise to call her the following day because she was crying her eyes out. She felt dejected that Tristan had neither called to tell her he was coming to France as he usually did, nor had he called her when he actually landed in France.

As far as Tristan was concerned, his relationship with Chloe, an American who lived and worked in France, was very simple. They were fuck buddies who like each other's company. They were in it just for the sex. They usually got together, only when Tristan came to France and even jokingly called themselves, 'the French Connection'. He therefore hadn't understood Chloe's clingy behaviour that evening, till Raoul, Chloe's best friend, had told him before getting into his car to drive Chloe home, that Chloe was madly in love with him.

Shit!

He had always thought they understood each other. How the fuck had he not read the signs. Because now that he'd been told, Tristan could recall some of Chloe's behaviour, which had seemed rather odd to him at the time. Like the delivery that was made to him on his birthday. Chloe had sent him a bottle of HER favourite wine, accompanied with a fun card that had stuck inside it, her nude picture. The words in the card, which said something silly about a naked woman and wine, had made Tristan laugh. He hadn't read any meaning into it though it had been strange since he hadn't even known Chloe knew his birthdate. And there were all those recent phone calls which though wasn't the norm with the kind of relationship they had, Tristan had dismissed as no big deal. If he had really known how she felt, he would have broken things off a long time ago.

Raoul has said something about Chloe hearing stories about Tristan that had devastated her. Tristan wondered what stories Chloe had heard. He entwined his left fingers with Damon's right and stared off into space.

"Ready to go?" Damon asked in a hoarse voice, making Tristan squeeze his eyes shut briefly. Damon didn't sound like his usual confident self. "It's past midnight and you have to go to work in the morning."

"Yeah I guess." Tristan murmured.

***

Damon sighed and looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was past three a.m. and Tristan was still tossing and turning.

With a sigh, Damon shifted closer to Tristan and slipped his arm around his waist and pulled him to his chest, spooning his front into Tristan's back. He leaned over to drop a kiss on Tristan's cheek and rested his head right behind his. Then threading his fingers through the backs of Tristan's, Damon whispered...

"Sleep."

Feeling the solace of Damon's arm around him, his breath fanning enticingly over the back of his neck, Tristan drifted into a peaceful sleep, leaving Damon to think about all that had happened the night before.

***

When they got back to their chalet from the club, Tristan had explain his relationship with Chloe to Damon, and ask him what he thought was the best thing to do. But Damon had told him to sort it out himself, adding that he trusted him to do the right thing.

"Much as I want to tell you what to do, I'm not going to, because I don't want to influence your decision. It is obvious that you care about her. As you said, you two have been doing this for the past two years. That is enough time for people to get attached to each other. As for why you decided not to tell her you're in town, or coming, I don't know. But you have to put things right Tris. Whatever you decide, I will respect it. I just want you to be happy."

"You're doing it again Damon." Tristan had said, his eyes suspiciously bright.

"Doing what?"

"You're not fighting for me." His voice was hoarse.

"Baby..." Damon started but Tristan wasn't done talking.

"Whatever I decide, you will respect? You mean even if I decide to date Chloe, you will respect it...because you want me to be happy. Really?" Tristan looked angry, hurt and confused.

Damon raked his fingers through his hair, groaning with frustration. "Don't put words in my mouth Tristan. That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I don't know shit." Tristan said tightly. He was already confused, thanks to Raoul's revelation, and Damon was not helping matters with his words. "And do you believe the crap that pours out of your mouth sometimes?"

"What the fuck do you want from me Tristan? I can't tell you what to do." Damon threw his hands up in the air. "I'm not your fucking keeper. There are some decisions you have to make for yourself. I don't have to like it, but I have to allow you to make your own choices as you 'sweetly' pointed out to me not too long ago." Damon added sarcastically, giving the word quotations with his fingers.

Tristan froze. So that was it. Damon was acting this way because he had told him after the plane crash, not to think for him. Was this even the same thing?

"Fuck you Damon." Tristan had said quietly, quickly grabbing a t-shirt and storming out of the bedroom. "Maybe YOU should grow up."

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Damon rushed out after him.

"None of your fucking business. After all, you are not my keeper." Tristan pulled on the t-shirt as he walked towards the door leading outside.

"You know what Tristan," Damon's voice stopped Tristan, "at a point in everyone's life, they have to face the consequences of their actions or inactions. You did go around fucking anything in skirt. I'm actually surprised you don't have a bunch of little Tristans following you around. Maybe you did something right after all."

That hurt. That hurt a lot. Tristan's eyes blurred. He quickly closed them and prayed for composure.

Damon continued in a deadly quiet voice. "Now this particular one has come back to bite you in the arse. Be a man and sort it out yourself. Is that so difficult to understand?" Damon's voice was low, throbbing with anger.

Tristan's green eyes flashed with temper. "You egotistical, arrogant son of a..."

"I don't believe insulting my mother is going to help this situation," Damon cut in.

Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a humourless laugh. "You know what? You're right." Then he turned to go.

"Don't you dare walk out on me Tristan." Damon said stiffly, trying desperately to rein in his temper.

"Temper, temper," Tristan tutted with a shake of his head. "Tell me something Damon. Do you really want this?" Tristan flicked his forefinger between them, indicating their relationship.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Damon's deep, rough voice rang through the tension-filled air.

"Well whilst you're trying to get the meaning of that, let me try another question." Tristan snarled.

He wanted to lash back at Damon. To hurt him just as Damon had hurt him with his words.

"It looks like you are in this for your personal agenda. Tell me Damon, are you an avenging angel for all those girls I fucked? You're here to give me a taste of my own medicine right? Maybe my punishment will be reduced as I made sure I didn't bring any little 'Tristans' into the world." Tristan said equally sarcastically, giving the word quotations with his fingers.

Damon groaned, seeing how badly his words had hurt Tristan and regretting it. "Tri..."

"I'm not done you asswipe. You're obviously a very good actor. You're in this just for the business aren't you? Why not link the families together to strengthen the business? But all the girls are already taken. Oh, there is Tristan. I don't mind...I can fuck him. Anything for the bus..."

"You little prick." Damon whispered, his voice cold. "You might want to shut the fuck up before you say something you can't take back."

"I've got a better idea. I'm outta here." And with that, Tristan banged the door behind him and left Damon alone.

"Fuck!" Damon punched his fist into the living room wall in frustration.

Damon couldn't believe it had come to this. Tristan made him so angry sometimes Damon had to suppress an overwhelming urge to shake him silly till his teeth rattled inside his mouth. But for the life of him, he couldn't understand why he'd lost his temper so quickly. Of course he hated the thought of Tristan choosing someone else over him. But he had faith in their love that Tristan wasn't going to do that. The last thing he wanted was to impose his will on Tristan. The last time he had tried to do that, Tristan had almost died. If Tristan was going to grow up, he had to be allowed to make important decisions on his own.

Damon's first thought that evening had been to forbid Tristan from ever talking to that girl. He wanted to lock both himself and Tristan in a box so that nothing in the world would touch them or mar their happiness in any way. But he knew that wouldn't be possible.

And just like that, it hit Damon!

He had lost his temper and said all those hurtful things to Tristan because he was jealous. He had been jealous and angry right from the moment Chloe had flung herself into Tristan's lap and kissed him. Angry at Tristan. Shit! And that slow dance, with Chloe draped all over Tristan, making it no secret the two were intimate. It had been excruciating to watch.

"Oh my God." Damon groaned, wishing he could take back all the mean things he had said to Tristan.

Damon knew he had to apologize to Tristan but also knew that wasn't the right time as Tristan was too angry. He had to give him the time and space to cool off. Damon wasn't worried about Tristan being out on the beach because there were security personnel all over the resort and Tristan would be safe.

He still stood by his reason for not helping Tristan make a decision on how to handle Chloe though. He could rather show his love and support by allowing Tristan to decide what was best for himself, and by God, that was exactly how he was going to play this even if it killed him.

***

Tristan threw stones into the clear blue water, the moon brightening up everything beautifully. But he couldn't even notice the beauty around him. He was angry. Angry at Damon, angry at Chloe and most of all, angry at himself.

He knew if Chloe hadn't been drunk, she wouldn't have acted as she had. But it was also obvious that the drink had made her bold to let him see just how strongly she felt about him. He was still surprised though because he had never given her reason to expect anything more from him than what they had. He had even told her more than once, that he didn't think he was capable of falling in love.

Tristan smiled sadly. Look at him now. Irrevocably in love with a moron.

Yes, he liked Chloe. A lot. He had never treated her as dismally as he had other girls. They got along very well and had fun together whenever he was in town. Now that he knew how it felt to be in love, Tristan felt bad about Chloe. He didn't know how he would survive if Damon didn't love him back. Tristan knew he had surprised Damon with all that rubbish that had spewed out of his mouth during their argument. He had only wanted to hurt Damon back. He was as sure of Damon's love for him as he was sure of his love for Damon.

"Why did you have to go and do that Chloe?" Tristan muttered.

He had to let her know his heart belonged to another, no matter how brutal it was going to sound. His heart belonged to HIM...

Damon! Now that was a name Tristan didn't even want to mention out loud. What the fuck had he meant by respecting his decision? Had he implied at any point, that he was going to choose between him and Chloe? He was supposed to be his boyfriend, his lover, his friend...right? And what do such people do? Help their partners make a decision, help them understand issues better, help them solve problems. And what does Damon do? Leave him in a lurch with some bullshit excuse. Well he was going to do this on his own. Damon Reid could go to hell for all he cared.

By the time Tristan got back to the chalet, it was past two a.m. and he was still fuming. Damon was already in bed. He had gotten into bed beside Damon, and for the first time since they started sharing a bed, he didn't snuggle against Damon. He slept on his side of the bed and thought about all that had happened. What Tristan hadn't anticipated, was just how difficult it was going to be, to sleep without Damon's arms around him.

When Tristan felt Damon's arms go around him, he sighed, relaxed, and immediately went to sleep.

***

Damon wheeled the food trolley into their bedroom and sat beside Tristan on the bed. Tristan stirred and stretched, opening his eyes to look at a showered and dressed Damon.

"What time is it?" Tristan asked groggily, turning to look at the clock on his bedside table. "Shit!" He exclaimed swinging his feet off the bed.

"Relax." Damon held him back. "I spoke to the guys. Everything is running smoothly."

"Why didn't you wake me up dude? It's almost twelve noon for goodness sake. I have a job to do Damon." Tristan groaned.

"I love it when you go all workaholic on me. It's sexy." Damon grinned teasingly. "Come on let's eat lunch."

Damon started uncovering the dishes. And not only did they look good, they also smelt good. Tristan's mouth watered. After making a quick dash to the bathroom, Tristan came back and ate with Damon.

Throughout the meal, Tristan kept looking everywhere but at Damon. He wouldn't meet Damon's eye.

"Hey." Damon said reaching out to hold Tristan's chin, getting him to finally meet his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah I'm good." But the look in Damon's eyes said he didn't think he was.

For some reason, none of them wanted to mention their argument. They both remembered all too clearly the pretty harsh words they had flung at each other and were not ready to bring it up.

"So what are you planning on doing today, before dinner with Étienne and his family?" Damon asked, wiping his lips with a napkin.

Tristan was silent for a long time, the only sound, his soft breathing. He had already finished eating. Finally, he breathed in deeply and muttered, "I have to go and see her Damon."

"Okay." Damon said, his voice quiet. "Relax for a while. I'll call Étienne to pick you up when you're ready."

Tristan turned his head to look at Damon and was shocked at the look on Damon's face. He looked scared shitless.

"Damon?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Damon whispered without hesitating. God, he was terrified.

"Good." Tristan stood up. "Now let's get this over and done with. I'm going to take a shower. Please tell Étienne I'll be ready to go in the next thirty minutes. Thanks."

Then briefly running his fingers through Damon's short hair, Tristan disappeared into the bathroom.

***

Translations:

Vous êtes les bienvenus Monsieur Reid -- You are welcome Mr. Reid

Excusez-moi -- Excuse me

Continuez à faire tourner le compteur -- Keep the meter running

Merci mon ami -- Thanks my friend

Mon Dieu -- My God

C'est quoi ce bordel -- What the hell

Vous faites une grosse erreur -- You are making a big mistake